


[Elevator Music]

by Expert_Amateur



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alien Sex, Anal Sex, Bodily Fluids, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Other, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 16:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Expert_Amateur/pseuds/Expert_Amateur
Summary: It's just Rick's day - another capture and another brain interrogation - and you're making it.(Note: this can be read as F/M or M/M and as Reader/Rick or OC/Rick. Either or. The character is an alien species of my creation that are all same-sexed and reproduce by hugging and dry-humping. Due to that, this fic has been tagged with and as multiple different iterations of the perspective character.)





	

“Yuuuuu-,” he belches, “- _ p! _ Man, you guys really have nothing better to do. Like- Like, how many times in how many dimensions do I have to destroy your shitty system before you- urg- you realize that- that- I can fuck you up twice as much?”

 

You don’t come out immediately. You watch from the shadows of the structures that make up Rick Sanchez’s mind as he stands, casually with flask in hand, and waits. You’ve seen pictures but he’s more of an enigma to you in person. You’re suddenly more aware of yourself, and especially of your mission. 

 

The collar around your neck beeps, an intercom, and your orders to approach come through. You nod, knowing the response can be seen; they’re observing how you fare with the mad scientist. You twist the centerpiece of your collar, your form changing into something more humanoid. Something more pleasing. You can only think of yourself as just that; this technology disrupts the brainwaves that perceive you and replaces it with its own image. The research you gathered on the man suggests that you finds beings of a more feminine influence gains a far more positive response than others despite his relative nonchalance to sex and gender.

 

(When you found out that particular snippet about him a warm feeling started in your chest. Too often, being sent to binary worlds left a sour taste in your mouth due to assumptions about yourself. You don’t let the feeling, about Sanchez or about binary strangers, get to you. You won’t let it.)

 

You finally step out after your chest expands with the false-air it takes in and releases. Sanchez has his eyes already in the place you stepped into as if he knew you were going to be standing right there. It’s his brain, so he probably did. He definitely did.

 

He smirks.

 

“Well, hubba hubba. ‘Bout time they sent someone in worth looking at,” he says, ogling obviously. Despite yourself, your chest heats.

 

“ _ Ahem _ ,” you cough before continuing, “Mr Sanchez, for crimes against the Galactic Federation-.”

 

“Hey, we can- can cut the crap, alright?” he interrupts, looking irritated. “I already know what I did. What I’ve done. The answer is everything that could be possibly conceived. Let’s just get the part where I-  _ ugh _ \- I have to give you all the information you want, only for you to inevitably fail and reside in the recesses of my brain labyrinth when I ditch you and escape.”

 

You cough again. You aren’t quite as prepared for this as you originally thought.

 

“I’m tasked with retrieving files which you may have come across while you were dismantling the Galactic Federation,” you tell him. “Giving me those ensures your freedom.”

 

“Ha! Yeah, until the next time you have to pick apart my brain like you fuckers always want.” The smile he gives you is almost deprecatory. And also somehow attractive when you see how his eyes scan over your holographically altered form. 

 

You push the thought aside, maybe somewhat reluctantly. You remind yourself that he’s a filthy human, and not in a thought pattern dedicated to influencing others to commit genocide. He’s simply just a vulgar being. 

 

“The files, Mr Sanchez.”

 

“Please, Rick is just fine,” he says as he strides passed you. He still holds his smirk, and when he’s in close proximity he looks you up and down and you try to ignore the look as you press onward.

 

“I may know what you’re looking for,” he says as he wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve, “But we’ll have to go a few levels deeper into my subconscious mind. I have a tendency to delete useless info and that shit wasn’t important to me. So we gotta check the recycling bin of this computer.”

 

At the furthest reach of the exterior of his mind lays an elevator. He presses the button and immediately it dings and opens. He gestures for you to enter - “Ladies first.” - and you don’t bother to correct him since it’s, while grating, unimportant, and too soon the doors close and you’re both plummeting downwards. 

 

It takes a moment for the gravity to even out; you’re disheveled and your uniform is crumpled and you straighten yourself out, watching Sanchez in the corner of your eye running a hand through his hair before stuffing it back in his coat. He looks at you curiously, you see, and before you can ask he reaches over and gropes your ass. 

 

As a species alien to him, it stimulates you far more than you want to admit and a noise is taken from you. You knock his hand aside, shuffling on trembling legs into the farmost corner of the elevator, and his grin is wicked.

 

“Just testing,” he answers the bewildered look on your face. 

 

The silence that follows is long. Awkward. Tense on your end. Mostly due to the fact that arousal still stirs and makes the hairs on your neck stand. You’re sure that in real life, as you sit attached to a machine that connects you with the human, you’re spinal receptors are fluttering. The thought embarrasses you, thinking of the other Tetheraxii in the room who will be witnessing your physical reaction. 

 

“It’s gonna be a long ride down. I suggest you and your friends get a book to read. Grab a sleeping bag. Whatever,” Sanchez comments, leaning on the wall opposite you. Your legs buckle as you try and stand correctly. Plantigrade appendages are much different from your own digitigrade ones. 

 

“How long, exactly?” you ask him.

 

“As long as it takes,” he replies.

 

You look out the small glass panel, levels zipping by and allowing you only a glimpse into his psyche, you think that it’ll certainly be a long ride.

 

-

 

You’re both playing cards. The games went from Go Fish to Shithead to, now, Blackjack. Half way through Shithead he produces drinks to share between himself and you. Halfway through drinks you think he’s a little closer. Moments later you think you’re losing your inhibitions a little more as well. The sound of orders in your ear through the intercom drowns out to a hum and you’re winning this round when he suggests something you feel like you shouldn’t accept and yet…

 

“How about me and you and some strip poker?” he says, shoulder just brushing against your own. Your bark out a laugh.

 

“That’s hardly well-advised,” you reply, nudging him softly back. You’ll lose, no doubt. He’s planning it out as such. You know it. But while the alcohol is just a figment of his imagination it so strongly influences your own perceptions and you’re finding yourself falling for the suggestion in his eyes. He knows.

 

“How about you deal then?” 

 

He holds out the deck to you.

 

You look at it.

 

And then you shuffle the cards and deal them out.

 

-

 

You’re melting in his mouth, nothing to taste but all the world to imagine. One hand is on your neck and the other trails up your body, from the sensitive flesh of your backside to the prominent curve of a breast over your uniform.

 

“That doesn’t really do anything for me, you know,” your breathe out against his mouth, your own hands moving to unbuckle his belt. 

 

“I thought so,” he replies, fingers moving across your chest to unbutton your shirt and follow the dip of your abdomen and- 

 

“ _ Oh my-! _ ”

 

You gasp, back arching as your holographic body distorts as pleasure pulses through your body. His fingers press into your reproductive cavity, sliding against the wet inner flesh, and in a few thrusts you’re properly revealed as the alien to him that you are. Or  _ different  _ alien.

 

Your hologram was far more humanoid, save for long pointed ears and tendrils for hair. Prukhul. As your true self you’re far more different. 

 

“Tetheraxus. Thought so when I grabbed your ass,” he says with a grin as his head lowers to lick against the long seam of your sex. 

 

You moan, your throat chittering as your tail comes into view and whips around under you. His body roots itself on the floor, kneeling between your legs to keep them separated, and he grope more at your ass as he sucks hard at the gland above your sex’s entrance. As he sucks your hole positively flutters and leaks over his chin with the translucent pink gush of your arousal. It feels so good and he grins and licks his lips. 

 

His fingers slide against the other flaps of your abdominal sex again, teasing you, and you whine as you arch your back into him. He squeezes your ass tight enough to bruise dark purple against the lavender of your skin, a warning. The sensation sends another burst of heat through you and your stomach gushes again, dripping over your pelvic mound and onto the floor. 

 

You’re hardly self-conscious that your other work colleagues are witnessing this. When you were briefed it was an expectation. If you’re being completely honest with yourself, as Sanchez eats you out like a hungry man getting his first taste of fine dining, you find yourself staring up at the ceiling of the elevator hoping that they watch you. It makes the fluids drip increasingly from you, the pulsers on your chest glowing a soft red.

 

His head moves lower, kissing down from the folds of your sex to your hips and following the curve down to your pelvis before he’s sitting up and lifting your legs gently with him. You’re still a dripping mess and when he lifts you your arousal trickles down to your collarbone. When you feel it you soon realize how close he is to your-

 

“Don’t! Not there!” You try and push him away though very weakly. Everything feels so good, clouding your senses, and he laughs as if he’s found something new and amusing. He certainly looks it with a cheshire grin and a hand, slick and smelling so distinctly of you, cups your mound and moves his fingers around further back. You flinch, shudder, and look at him with a withering gaze, purple tongue peeking out as you lick your lips before biting them.

 

“Is it true that when your kind shits it turns you on?” he asks, vulgar and make you hide what you can of yourself in your arms, “Because that’s kind of weird, you know.”

 

“We don’t-,” you try to force out as you shift your ass away from where his finger circled an entrance tighter than the one on your abdomen.

 

Your species aren’t prone to excreting waste from your system and the very mention of it is taboo in civil circles. Being...aroused...by the expulsion of internal excess isn’t entirely untrue, however, though only due to biological circumstance. And, perhaps, because the galaxy likes to be ironic like that.

 

The point of the matter is that he’s close to penetrating your ass. Dangerously so as you feel him press gently, testing the give on your muscles. It makes your abdomen squirt violently as you tremble and shake and scramble to claw at your neck and press the damn button to turn of the visual and audio connection to Command. You can’t let them watch this, seeing you soak yourself until you’re drowning from Rick Sanchez playing with your tight ass. 

 

The arousal only increases when it’s only the two of you together, private now so you can moan louder and rock gently into him with the purpose of making him finger you there. It’s such a forbidden thing for your species and you may very well be a freak to them all for letting him touch you there.

 

“Now that I got you all alone,” Rick says lowly, leaning close to your neck and licking up to your jaw. You shudder, whining.

 

His finger pushes further in this time and you can’t help being so tight on him, mouth open wide behind your fist as you lose all inhibitions to your pleasure. You mutter for him to please continue, telling him that you can take it easily. You’re wet enough with all of your slick flooding between your thighs. He laughs, deep in his chest, and he trusts you too easily with your begging. Suddenly, with a force that knocks the moan out of your throat, he pushes his finger deep into your ass and pounds, fast and relentless. 

 

“Rick- fuck- oh, fuck-!” 

 

You’re sobbing now, cheeks wet with tears and sobs of overstimulation throbbing in your ears. You love every moment of it, gripping Rick’s shoulder as he returns to eating your sex out. You think he might suffocate on you, on how you’re gushing out and holding him tight into you as you go through orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. Your thighs quake around his forearm and once they settle he retracts his hand and removes his face from your person.

 

He’s covered in you, his labcoat bright and pink, and all he does is look down on you and lick his lips as he untucks his shirt and undoes his pants. You’re not at all surprised to see that the skin of his sex has many blemishes due to his age but you are surprised to find how firm it continues to be. No, not firm. Hard. Solid and stiff with a curved tip that has you licking your lips to hold back your compulsion to suck. 

 

“Like it, baby?” He says it as he waggles his brow at you and you nod. You want it badly to push into you and press against the outer walls of your reproduction chamber. The thought makes you weakly squirt out again. You’re not entirely sure if you could take anymore but when you watch him stroke the length of his human cock it makes you wonder and want. Your species all have the same sex with very few having their sexual glands to even grow inches upon arousal; reproduction is done by embracing and hoping for the best that one or both catch.

 

To have Rick, a length average to humans but absolutely large and thick to you, piques curiosity and arousal.

 

He doesn’t talk to you through it. He must know that it’s your first time with a human yet he make no utterance as he lines himself with your asshole and presses forward with a hard snap. For an older human, passing fifty but barely surpassing sixty, he knows how to fuck. His thrusts are sharp and precise, so unlike the drunkard assumption you had made of him. You know he’s smart but sex isn’t all logical. It’s passionate, erratic, and deeply embedded in the biology of many people (though not all).

 

It’s certainly a function deeply embedded in him as he fucks you with a strength you wouldn’t have expected out of him. He presses against the sweet spot of your ass with enough force to have you seeing constellations behind your eyes and you hear him grunt, pant, and laugh as he continues. After a moment, you’re turning over so that he can take you from behind and he makes short work of slamming against you to make the fat of your ass making smacking sounds against the tops of his thighs. He moans when he hears the sound and the hand on your waist moves to toy with your sex again.

 

You let him take you. As much as you enjoy it you’re tired and can only try to breath through it all and coax his own climax out of him. You want him to come so badly. You want him to come in you, his DNA filling you without the intent to breed. It makes your muscles twitch as you tighten hard on him. He makes a sound before leaning over your back, his chest pressed to it, as his thrusts increase in speed.

 

He’s desperate for his release and you’re desperate to take it all and have him. 

 

“You’re going to cum?” you ask, voice high in need. “Give it to me, please. Want you to- Rick-.”

 

You’re not one for dirty talk but you call to him with all the vulgarity you can muster, throwing back all his early treatment of you in his face, and he chokes on a gasp as he cums and spills deep inside of your ass.

 

When he pulls out you can feel the drip of his seed running down your thighs, hot in comparison to the cool of your own juices that steadily flow from your belly. Your body shakes with the aftermath of your copulation and you’re breathing heavily. He groans as he stumbles back against a wall to lean on it and recover himself. You can’t move and your eyes flutter closed as fatigue gets to you post-coital.

 

You feel something covering you after a moment. When you peek at your surroundings for the short time you have before your consciousness slips away you notice Rick.

 

You huff softly, a breath of a laugh. 

**Author's Note:**

> v light editing done ey 
> 
>  
> 
>   
>  _Update: Y'all want a ref for the kinda alien this is?[Eyyy](http://robotentacles.tumblr.com/post/160113644158) Otherwise totally make up your own interpretation; I ain't fussed._  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> I want y'all to take this before I regret it.
> 
>  _Totally_ not related: Do you ever just think of someone else when having real life sex with someone?  
>  Don't answer that.
> 
> If anyone wants a continuation then hmu. I had plans for a continuation. Just don't know if I can be bothered. Ta.


End file.
